Wednesday, March 05, 2014

Spring Forward?

Sunday the 9th we March the clocks forward one hour. Could never understand this bi-annual man-made sleep disorder. Why not compromise and just adjust the clocks 30 minutes, then... leave them there??? Forever!!!

Temperatures predicted to be in the 40's next week, otherwise known as 'the calm before the mud season'. I'm sure we've had over 100 inches of snow this winter, up here by the lake . Not too bad, eh?  

 And by my count, 10 mornings of sub-zero temperatures. Not what I would call 'hearing-aid friendly' weather. Moisture gets inside the hearing-aid and/or air-tubes, then freezes, possibly cracking materials as it expands.

I'll depart with a few pics:

Frozen river alongside old depot

Yacht club

The snowman has left the freezer!

White-winged Scoter. 1st one i've seen.

Thursday, January 16, 2014

Ready... Omaha... Hut-hut

I really like this commercial by Duracell with  fullback Derrick Coleman of the Seattle Seahawks. Nice that it has closed-captions too!

When I was a high school football player I first tried out as a fullback. However, lining up behind the quarterback, I couldn't hear the signals, thus I would be a half-step behind everyone else. The coaches decided it would be easier to hear the quarterback from the guard position on the offensive line. It worked out much better, although I would struggle at times with the play-calling in the huddle.

And guess what batteries I use? Duracell Activair hearing-aid batteries (size 13 ). I go thru 2 batteries every 5 days (one for each aid). 

I'm a Giants fan, and they're sitting out this year's playoff. Think I know who I will be rooting for!

Saturday, November 23, 2013

The Season of Snow

Gale-force winds crashing over the pier Saturday PM.
Funny, I actually got to clean out the leaves from the rain gutters this morning. One last window of opportunity, eh?

Sunday, November 10, 2013


Asking a bully to toughen someone up is akin to providing an arsonist with a flame-thrower. The NFL will protect its brand, never mind setting a good example for all those youngsters. In the end, it's all about money and image.

For those youngster who endure bullying, Martin did the right thing. He didn't get a gun and shoot-up the town, nor did he suicide. He simply went home and asked for help. Nuff said.

Next up, my zinc-air hearing-aid batteries are dying an early death, with some only lasting a few hours. Power One, made in Germany. Not sure why since they are in the original package with the air-holes sealed over. I will switch to duracel.

A few pics from today. Quite windy here.

From a balcony

Old battered doorways

Black Velvet with lobster tails. All stolen, I imagine.

Yup, its windy!

Corrected: EKAW ON

Sunday, August 11, 2013

Summer Photo Post

Click on photo to enlarge or right click to open in new tab for larger image.
Soccer in the sand.

Long pier in the background.

Volleyball... all ages.

Warming up for soccer.

What is this? They bounce the ball off a small trampoline.

Lean for balance.

Nice colors.

Goooooooal !!!

Blimps required for all events. lol

Rugby in the sand??? Get a mouth-full matey??? Crazy Aussie wannabes!!!

He made it!

Gets wet out thar, dude!

Vball faithfuls.


Weekend matches.

Nice ride!

Saturday, June 29, 2013

It Stays With You for A Lifetime

 Part 2

The end of my senior year, our Block I sports awards.

Since my dad was an alcoholic, I discouraged my parents from attending. All I expected was to pick up my varsity letters in football and track. No biggie. I never dreamed I could be so wrong. What transpired was totally unexpected.

Ironically, or perhaps intentionally, I was seated at a table with my biology teacher, Mr. Dempster.

My sophomore year, I had a failing grade in his biology class. With my hearing loss, it was impossible for me to understand the unfamiliar biology vocabulary. This difficulty with understanding unfamiliar words was something I didn’t yet understand, nor did the adults involved in my life. 

Failing his subject, Mr. Dempster required me to attend after-school classes. Since I had made the varsity football team as a sophmore, I wasn’t suppose to miss after-school practice sessions. I had a choice, attend after-school biology or football. I wrongly chose football.

To make a long story short, caught doing the wrong thing, I was required to stop at Mr. Dempster’s house and apologize for skipping his after-school class. He was cool about it, and we seemed to kind of connect as student and teacher. But, I still miserably failed biology that year, and had to retake it the next semester.

So, back to the Block I sports awards.

I couldn’t hear. The awards came up, the recipients announced. All I could do was watch.

The award for Competitive Spirit came up… the people at my table indicated it was for me… and I got up to receive the award. Well, that was nice, I thought. I didn’t expect anything, but this was cool.

The next award, I totally expected another classmate to earn this, the Unsung Hero Award. It is one of the most prestigious sports awards at my school. This award represents everything about your character. It stays with you for life.

My name was announced. Again, I didn’t hear it. Mr. Dempster proudly looked at me and told me so. I was never more humbled, and speechless.

But, this story doesn’t end here. No.

One weekend later, and just before graduation, I was playing a parking-lot version of broomball. One of my opponents high-sticked me, and slashed a cut above my eye. Bleeding, we went to the nearest home, Josh’s. His father called my dad to come take me to the hospital for stitches.

While Josh and I waited on his porch for my dad, he explained his opinion. He told me that the only reason I was awarded the Unsung Hero Award, and not him, was because people felt sorry for me, because of my hearing loss.

I should explain… Josh finished quite high academically in our class, racking up numerous scholarships and recognitions.

And my one moment of glory…. despite Josh... ???

Well... thanks Terry... you were the best, the best of friends.

Saturday, June 22, 2013

High School Sucks? Part I

This is the 1st of a 2 part story .  Teen years and high school were rough. No one makes it without help. Your help...

The Good... the Bad

In some ways, I've really felt cheated in life, but I still believed in myself.

My neighbor friend, Terry, was like another brother to me. He died in an auto accident, age 19. I was only 16. I was lucky to have three older brothers, but it was Terry whom I looked up to.

Terry convinced me to take up sports in junior high school. Prior to then, I was just a wimp with no purpose. He encouraged me to tryout for football, so I did, and I made the team. No biggy, since most kids did make the team. But I was different. I needed an identity, and unknown to me, a vehicle to normalcy, to coolness. Football became that vehicle.

The next year as a sophomore, I was trying out for the junior varsity team. Because of my speed, instead, I made the varsity squad. It was totally unexpected. And the junior-class players were quite upset, especially since a few of their mates were assigned to the jv team. Some of the juniors were out to get me, but the senior players protected me. They told me so, and it was kinda cool just to know they cared about me. All I could do was play hard. Eventually, the junior players would come around to respect me.

But it was all because of Terry. I never would have tried for these achievements without his encouragement.

I was blown away when he died.

 It was a hot night, July 3rd. That evening my parents had a big row, so I fled the house.  I walked the village streets, had my usual imaginary pissed-off discussions with God. Why me, kinda stuff. A sorry attitude, but I was just a kid. I never really experienced a time without hearing loss.

That night I ventured back home after 10PM. Our house was all dark. It was quiet… still. Everyone had gone to bed. Regardless, I didn’t want to go inside. So I took a seat on the front porch steps. As I sat there thinking about my own fate… my parents fighting… life in general… a taxi-cab pulled around the corner… as it screeched to a stop… Terry’s mom jumped from the rear seat and ran to her house.

He was dead... a car accident. Wet roads and alcohol were involved. Someone else was said to be driving, but it was Terry’s car. I never blamed the driver.

I dedicated football to Terry. But I told no-one. There were discussions and rumors about Terry in our locker room, but I couldn’t share my feelings. We had been too close. No one would understand… or so I felt.  So I just competed as hard as I could. 

And I was rewarded….